‘Have you never considered getting married, Mullah?’
‘I have,’ replied Nasrudin. ‘In my youth, I resolved to find the perfect woman. I crossed the desert and reached Damascus, and I met a lovely, very spiritual woman, but she knew nothing of the world. I continued my journey and went to Isfahan; there I met a woman who knew both the spiritual and the material world, but she was not pretty. Then I decided to go to Cairo, where I dined in the house of a beautiful woman, who was both religious and a connoisseur of material reality.’
‘Why didn’t you marry her, then?’
‘Alas, my friend, she was looking for the perfect man.’
Courtesy: Paulo Coelho.
********************************************************************************
Why do we love them so?

The simplest things make us love them: the way they laugh; the way they look at us; the manner in which they walk or sit. We go crazy over the down on their arms. We become irrational when we are deprived of their companionship. We feel incomplete unless they are with us to share the adventure of life.
A lovable woman can discipline us; they give us a reason for living and an anchor with which to keep our existence moored to a purpose greater than mere money-making or the achievement of fame. They are our missing half; our better half; never mind if we joke they are to us the old ball-and-chain.
In getting to know them, they get to know us, achieving an understanding of our selves beyond our competence.
Woman is wine: the delectable fruit of the vine, giving us joy, warming the heart, and warming us during those moments when a man and a woman united in love create entire universes: for physical and intellectual union are what create those high moments of ecstasy and illumination which validate our existence as human beings.
Our mothers. Our sisters. Our girlfriends. Our wives. Our mistresses. Loving and loved in different ways and under wildly different circumstances: and yet all the same in the way they bring out the best of us and the worst of us.
Our very being, of course, we owe to women: no one would be on this earth without them. To them we owe our development into thinking beings. To them we owe what little love we may receive as children, which must sustain us through life until, by some good fortune, we find another woman to love us totally, whether she be a mate or a friend. To woman man owes the perpetuation of the race; and to each woman each man must owe kindness, compassion, true friendship, such as only women can provide.
Without woman, we would have no art; no literature; no music: without woman we would have no civilisation. Deprived of woman, we would be sterile beings, unable to bring into this world re-creations of ourselves: children to ensure our immortality. Without woman we would have no one to wipe away our tears, to kiss us when we're blue, to share embraces and the caresses of love. To gossip with, shop with, eat with, unburden one's soul to or merely pass the time.
That is why we love women so. Without them, the world would have no meaning, we wouldn't be here; our individual worlds would be barren: a truth we all know.
And I thank God for all the wonderful women in my life.
And just one day in a year isn't enough to celebrate them but a lifetime.
(Partly edited from an article in Asia News Network)